Matthew especially was relieved, as it meant he could do his job at a normal pace rather than the one-hundred-miles-an-hour he’d had to adopt to serve the onslaught of thirsty villagers. And a normal pace meant he could dedicate a great deal of himself to eavesdropping on conversations. He did just that as he kept on top of his other tasks—pulling Gordon more pints and supplying him with peanuts, clearing up discarded crisp and nut packets, taking meal orders. But there was nothing taxing, and he was able to listen in on every patron at some point. Sadly none of them seemed to be discussing anything more interesting than leaky ceilings, crappy jobs and rising energy prices. Not forgetting the favorite British topic—the weather.
The door swung open and a group of three more villagers traipsed into the pub. Standing at the bar, they ordered a pint each and snagged the last remaining table, which happened to be at the far end of the room from the bar. It didn’t matter—Matthew was still more than capable of hearing them. And hear them he would. Making sure he looked busy doing something else while training his ears on their conversation, he waited to see if the three men had anything interesting or useful to say.
To begin with they didn’t. It was just as mind-numbingly dull as the stuff everyone else had been coming out with. But after they’d all finished their first drink and collected another, their tongues started to loosen. Even if Matthew hadn’t been zeroing in on them in particular, he would have when they started to lower their voices. It was a dead giveaway, and Matthew immediately started concentrating harder, all the while giving the air of being incredibly busy with his job.
Before five minutes was up, Matthew knew he had his men. Even if he hadn’t been able to hear them, their shifty body language and constant peering around the room, with the occasional stare at him, would have given them away. But he didn’t need any of that secondary stuff. He’d heard them discussing him and his brother, and that was enough.
After a glance around confirmed that everyone was okay—most importantly Gordon—he strode nonchalantly out into the room, picking up the odd empty glass and smiling and chatting with people. He was every inch the good barman, looking after his customers, making sure they were happy. By the time he turned to the table at the back, the three men had clammed up and were looking increasingly uncomfortable the closer he got.
Pasting the biggest grin he could summon onto his face, he approached them. “All right, gentlemen? Can I take any glasses, get you anything else?”
Chapter Ten
The three men, all between forty and fifty, shifted in their chairs and looked anywhere except at Matthew. Tom Dunwell, the oldest of the three, eventually said, “No, we’re all right, thanks.” He sounded as though he’d almost choked the words out.
Matthew had to hold on tight to his irritation. All three men had grown up in the village, so he’d known them all their lives, and while he’d never classed them as friends, they certainly weren’t his enemies. Though they seemed to want to make themselves into enemies. Still injecting immense friendliness into his tone, he perched on a spare stool at the table, then reached out and clapped the nearest man on the back. Carl Lamb, who was the youngest of the three, looked as though he was about to make a mess in his underwear.
“Are you sure, gentlemen? I’m here to help, to make sure you’re happy, well fed and watered.”
The third man, John Rayne, didn’t look as worried as the other two. He certainly wasn’t the brains of the outfit, then—and by his appearance, probably not the brawn either. Poor guy had neither of those things going for him, yet he was the one who spoke out. “We’d prefer to be left alone, thanks. If we want anything, we’ll come up to the bar.”
Matthew stood as abruptly as possible without making the stool fall over. It had the desired effect. All three men flinched away from him, and he bit back a smirk. “No problem at all.” He leaned closer, lowered his voice. “I’ll just let you get back to planning to follow my brother and me down to the Stoney Middleton caves on the full moon then, shall I?”
He waited just long enough to see their faces register what he’d said—their eyes widen, jaws drop open—then he turned on his heel and headed back behind the bar to get on with his job. There were other customers to serve. He’d made his point, let them know he was on to them, and they also had to know he’d be keeping a close watch on them while they were there. And he did just that—from the corner of his eye when he was busy, and direct glances when he had a breather. Now he just had to talk to them alone—it was not a conversation to be had in the Miners, where anyone could listen—and persuade them that they were wrong about him and his brother and that their idea was insane. Not to mention bloody dangerous.
Figuring he couldn’t do any more for the time being, Matthew tried to put the situation out of his mind, instead throwing himself into genuinely friendly conversations with the other patrons, a heated discussion on politics with Gordon, and fending off the flirtatious attentions of Lisa, the girl who helped the chef out in the kitchen when they were really busy. He didn’t take it personally—Lisa flirted with every male regardless of age or marital status. He just wished that the women who flirted with him weren’t so damn young. Not that it would make a difference if they were older, but it just made him feel so old. Ancient. Which he supposed, was exactly what he was, despite looking as though he was in his forties and in very good shape.
He snaffled a free meal from the chef after a while, eating it happily and gratefully as it meant he didn’t have to cook when he got home. Afterward, the rest of his shift went by quickly, and he didn’t know whether to be delighted or disappointed that the three men in the corner had ceased their conversation about him and his brother when he’d sort of confronted them about it. He didn’t know if they’d realized he could hear them or if they just didn’t want to risk it, knowing he was on to them. It was nice not to have to hear them talk about him and Isaac as though they were animals, but it was unfortunate that he couldn’t glean any more information from them. Still, once he got one or all of them alone for a little chat, he was pretty sure he could get them to talk. He’d never hurt anyone, but they didn’t know that. A little gentle threatening could go a long way when people knew you turned into a huge wolf every full moon.
Chuckling to himself as he called goodbye to his boss and colleagues and headed out the door, he decided he would go and talk to the men tomorrow. They’d long since departed the pub, and he wasn’t about to knock on their doors at this time of night. They might be morons, but he didn’t want to scare the living daylights out of them or their families and end up having the police called. Being an ex-policeman didn’t make him immune to a caution or even an arrest.
No, it could wait until morning, but that was it. Nathaniel’s garden was pretty much done, so he’d head over there a little later the next day. Not that the other man would mind if he didn’t turn up at all for one day—he’d made it clear that he knew Matthew had other stuff going on, so whenever he could do bits and pieces was fine. Being the sort of man who liked getting things done, Matthew would prefer to finish the job then move on, rather than having it hang over his head for ages. But this was important, so a few hours was long enough to wait, especially since he wanted this all done and dusted by the time Isaac arrived home from London. That wasn’t until the day after tomorrow, so he had time.
As he stepped through the front door, tiredness suddenly hit him. He was supernatural, yes, but that didn’t mean he had boundless energy, and he’d had a long and busy few days with some stressful stuff going on. It had clearly gotten on top of him more than he’d realized. So after a quick shower, he set his alarm for the following morning and went straight to bed, pulling the covers up tight to his chin and falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The following morning he felt rested, so he got up straight away when his alarm screeched at him, grabbed a bowl of cereal and a strong coffee, then got washed and dressed and headed out. A minute or so later he reached his first and
possibly only destination. He’d suspected that Tom Dunwell, or Thomas to give him his full name, was the ringleader of the little group of crazy folk, so he’d put his house first on the list. Plus it was the nearest, which made things easier. He could get there nice and early, and hopefully he’d catch Tom before he went to work.
Knocking on the door, Matthew took a deep breath, determined to be as nice as possible, to keep his temper. The man hadn’t done anything wrong or stupid yet, so he should try to keep things civil if possible.
After a pause the door opened slowly and a tousled head peered out. “Hmm?” Then they seemed to realize just what was going on and snapped to attention. “Oh sorry, Matthew. I’m still half asleep here. You all right?”
Smiling kindly at Tom’s wife Margaret, he said, “I’m sorry if I woke you, Margaret. I’m looking for Tom. Is he around? I know it’s early but I need to catch him before he goes to work.”
Frowning, she opened the door wider to let him in. “He’s in the shower at the moment. Is everything all right? Anything I can help you with?”
She clearly had absolutely no idea what her husband was planning, and Matthew wasn’t about to enlighten her. It wasn’t his place. He walked through the door and into the kitchen, and took the seat proffered him at the table. “Everything’s fine, sweetheart, really. I just need to talk to him quickly, that’s all. Nothing to worry about. Go back to bed if you want. I’ll wait here if that’s all right.”
Still looking a little dazed, Margaret nodded slowly and stepped toward the stairs. “I’ll go and give him a knock, let him know you’re here. That should hurry him up a bit.”
“Okay, thanks.”
She climbed the stairs, and he heard her knock on the bathroom door, then, after a pause, hiss through the wood, “Tom? Matthew Adams is here. He won’t say what he wants, but he wants to talk to you. What on earth does he want?”
He couldn’t hear the reply, unfortunately, as it was muffled by the door, but Matthew still smirked. One side of the conversation was enough. By turning up, he’d tipped Margaret off that something was going on, and she probably wouldn’t let it rest until her husband had told her. Perhaps that would be another person with some sense to talk him out of it.
After a second he heard a door open, and Tom’s voice whispered to his wife, “Go tell him I’m just going to get dressed, would you, please? I’ll be as quick as I can. And get the kettle on.” That last was said in a less hasty, irritated tone, as the man seemed to catch on that he shouldn’t be taking his confusion and annoyance out on his clueless wife.
“Okay. I’ll make you a coffee. But you’re gonna tell me what this is about when he’s gone, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” the man’s voice grew quieter as he stepped farther away from his wife, probably into the bedroom. “Of course.” A door closed.
Footsteps came back down the stairs, and Margaret rejoined Matthew in the kitchen, looking a tad more awake but no less confused. “Can I get you a drink, Matthew?” She smiled.
“Only if you’re making one,” he replied.
“I am. I’m in desperate need of coffee, for one, and Tom wants one too. So it’s no trouble.” If he wasn’t mistaken, she blushed a little under his attention.
Ha, Matthew thought, and people always say my brother is the charming one.
“Okay then, that would be wonderful, thank you. A coffee, please—one sugar and a splash of milk.”
“Coming right up.”
They fell into a comfortable silence as the woman filled the kettle, pulled out three mugs and put the relevant granules into them, then grabbed the milk from the fridge. Seconds later, the potent smell of instant coffee filtered through the air and up Matthew’s nostrils. Oh yes, a second dose of caffeine would certainly not go amiss.
A few thumps from upstairs and the opening and closing of a door told Matthew that Tom was on his way down. Heavier footsteps clumped down the stairs this time, and a very affronted-looking Tom moved into the kitchen.
“Morning, Tom,” Matthew said, his cheer being for the benefit of Margaret. He didn’t want the man’s wife to feel threatened by his presence. It was Tom who had pissed him off, not her. “I’m so sorry to drop in on you this early, but I wanted to catch you before you went to work. Can you spare me a few minutes?”
Shooting a pointed look at his wife, Tom shuffled over to the worktop and picked up the coffee mug with his name on it. Margaret handed Matthew’s to him with a smile, then took hers back upstairs.
Waiting until his wife was upstairs and out of sight and earshot, Tom turned to Matthew, his anger very apparent. “What the hell do you want? Coming to my house!”
Raising an eyebrow, Matthew kept his cool, taking a sip of his coffee before replying. “I don’t see why you’re so pissed off at me, Dunwell. You’re the one accusing me and my brother of something we haven’t done, and planning something stupid that is only going to endanger you and prove you wrong.” He paused and drank some more of his drink, more in an attempt to slow himself down and keep calm than anything.
“I should just let you do it, really, let you three idiots come down to the caves and see what happens. If you get hurt, it’s your own idiotic fault. But you see, I can’t do that. Because my brother and I don’t hurt sheep,never mind people, and I can’t have you taking the risk of getting caught up in something as we change or when we’ve already changed. We’ve nothing to hide, so don’t get the wrong idea or start jumping to conclusions, but it’s a ridiculous situation to put yourself and your friends in. What exactly have we done to make you doubt us, anyway?”
“W—what do you mean?” The man was clutching at his mug of coffee for dear life, though it seemed the liquid was too hot for him to drink any just yet.
“The question was simple enough, Dunwell. Come on. I want to know why you doubt Isaac and me. Why you think we killed that sheep.”
“Well,” he blustered, spilling coffee over the side of his mug and onto the linoleum floor. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? It happened during a full moon. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and for it to happen on a full moon is just too much of a coincidence, isn’t it?”
Matthew sighed. “Don’t you see, Tom? You’ve just given the exact reason you shouldn’t doubt us, right there. Nothing like this has ever happened before. That should be enough reason—we’ve lived here for hundreds of years. Before you were born, before your parents and grandparents were born, and we’ve never slaughtered any sheep, or anything else for that matter. So why in God’s name would we start now?”
The other man dropped his gaze to the steaming brown liquid in his hands and muttered, “But it was on a full moon.”
Matthew replied, “I’m well aware of that, and I know how it might look, but I can assure you it’s a coincidence. Isaac and I have been changing in the caves for a very, very long time now, and we’ve never strayed out of them until we’ve been back in human form. We can’t, actually, as we can’t fit out of the small spaces, which is why it’s so perfect. Once we’re in, we can’t get out until we’re men again.”
Tom looked surprised, and Matthew felt a sense of triumph. He clearly hadn’t known that. “So do you still think it was us?”
Shifting from foot to foot, Tom finally managed to make eye contact with Matthew. Sulkily, he said, “Wasn’t my bloody idea. But you know what it’s like—someone suggests something, gets angry, you get caught up in the excitement, and next thing you know—”
Matthew interrupted. “So you’ll call it off? You know it’s stupid, don’t you?”
Huffing, Tom spoke again, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. Carl and John are pretty determined, though. They’re sure you two slaughtered that sheep.”
“Well, we didn’t. I can go and talk to them, if you’d prefer…”
“No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ll go and see them both tonight, see what I can do. I’ll let you know.”
Finishing his drink, Matthew stood and placed the empty mug carefu
lly in the sink. “That would be wonderful, thank you. I’m pleased you’ve seen sense. Please thank Margaret for the drink. I’ll let myself out.”
Smiling at the other man in an attempt to keep things friendly, even though he could have cheerfully throttled him, Matthew left the house and closed the door softly. Then he turned in the direction of Nathaniel’s house, all set to get the garden finished and ready to plant. A weight had been lifted off his mind. He was sure that despite his protests Tom had been the one to start the silly plan in motion, so he could be the one to stop it.
And now when Isaac came home, Matthew could tell him that everything was in hand and they no longer had anything to worry about. Fantastic.
Chapter Eleven
After what felt like the longest journey ever, Isaac’s train pulled into St. Pancras station. Most of the passengers jumped up and started pulling their bags from the overhead shelves and luggage racks, putting on their coats and queuing in the narrow aisle to get off. Isaac stayed where he was—St. Pancras was the end of the line, so it wasn’t as if he could go past his stop if he didn’t get up immediately and join the fray. He was more than happy to wait until some of the people had cleared off before he grabbed his stuff and headed out onto the platform. He’d have crowding and jostling aplenty once he got into the station proper and then into the Underground system—he was in no rush to start fighting for personal space now.
Soon enough the eager passengers had shoved their way out of the train and were on their merry way through the capital, so Isaac stood up. He wasn’t the only one who had chosen that tactic—he could see a handful of people dotted through his carriage, including a petite woman who appeared to be struggling to get her bag down from the overhead shelving. Slipping into the aisle, he moved next to her and gave her a friendly smile.
“Here, let me help you.”
The woman stood back slightly, smiling demurely as he reached up and grabbed her bag, then handed it to her. A blush stained her cheeks and she met his gaze very briefly. “Thank you so much, that’s very kind of you.”
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